


Lost Boy

by MissLii



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff, M/M, Sad Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 18:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5795206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLii/pseuds/MissLii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something very familiar about the slow drawl of Harry’s  voice, the nametag on his chest in a swirly handwriting making sure that Liam doesn’t have to call him ‘hot bloke who he very much would like to snog’. It’s quite a mouthful; Liam should feel relieved but all he can think of is how pretty and pink Harry’s lips are.</p><p>It’s distracting, is what it is. Liam blinks slowly, clearing his throat as he tries to think of something to say.</p><p>The name Harry is also familiar, one he’s been unable to stop thinking about. Liam remembers being told just that name, over the phone a few weeks ago when he called his sister, only to wake up someone else entirely.</p><p> <br/><em>(Or: Liam might have accidentally called, Harry, the cute bloke behind the counter, in the middle of the night.)</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Tumblr prompt “Hey you called this number at like 3AM and we talked about some pretty heavy shit do you remember any of that?”

It’s not really his crowd, the bakery hidden in a corner on a small street a bit too hipster for a small town kid like him, girls and boys with styles that he likes, but never seen on anyone back home. Even now at the age of twenty-one, after more than two lonely years in London, he feels out of place. But the cakes are good -- he missed his mum’s banana bread, and his Google searches told him about this place.

 

It’s his third time there. Today is the first time it’s not the friendly girl with pale purple hair behind the counter, though.

 

Maybe he shouldn’t spend his money on such unnecessary things as sugary cakes that probably will give him a toothache. Though, the green smoothie on the glass shelves with kale and loads of stuff he doesn’t know what it is, might be better for his health.

 

He’s staring at it, confused about why such a thing would even be at a bakery. He doesn’t even notice when the girl in front of him is done, too caught up in his thoughts.

 

“What can we do for you?”

 

The voice from behind the counter, male this time, shocks Liam out of his trance. At first, he’s blushing because of how he was holding up the line. Then he notices how fit the man is; hair pulled up in a bun and with arms covered in tattoos that are both random and hot.

 

The tightness of his black shirt, just sheer enough to tell Liam that there are more tattoos on his skin, causes Liam to stare a bit _too_ long at his chest. He thinks he can see the outlines of a butterfly on him.

 

There is something very familiar about the slow drawl of Harry’s voice -- the nametag on his chest in a swirly handwriting making sure that Liam doesn’t have to call him ‘hot bloke who he very much would like to snog’. It’s quite a mouthful; Liam should feel relieved but all he can think of is how pretty and pink Harry’s lips are.

 

It’s distracting, is what it is. Liam blinks slowly, clearing his throat as he tries to think of something to say.

 

The name Harry is also familiar, one he’s been unable to stop thinking about. Liam remembers being told just that name, over the phone a few weeks ago when he called his sister, only to wake up someone else entirely.

 

It was a bad night at work, rude customers making him long for his family, for anyone to talk to. His sister felt like the safest option since he still feels awkward around his parents; they are part of the problem.

 

Part of the reason he moved into his small flat. It’s not much more than a room, really, with new things added whenever he can spare some of the tips he gets at work, bartending at a shabby pub. It’s not the type of place people leave much of a tip, sadly. His flat is simple and empty even though it’s so small. So unlike the cosy home he moved away from, with knitted throws that his mum made and flowers in bright colours.

 

It’s a home, at least. He should be happy with that.

 

Coming out to his family at eighteen, he hoped for them to understand, or at least, _pretend_ to. Instead, his mum cried, asking over and over if he was sure. He was, had no doubts about his feelings for boys.

 

His dad said nothing, and that hurt even more.

 

It wasn’t that they threw him out. He made his own choice, after years of bullying at school for what they assumed he was, he couldn’t take his mum not being able to look at him.

 

Now, he talks to his mum now and then. Sometimes she asks if he’s met a nice girl. Like it’s an option.

 

What he didn’t expect was that he’d be so alone in London, not in a city so big. He’d hoped to find someone who’d want him. He’s tried putting himself out there, but it’s hard.

 

“It’s very good. The green energy smoothie, I mean,” says Harry, who Liam _might_ have had a late night chat with, filled with promises that everything would turn out alright for him. He’d just have to wait, just a little bit longer.

 

It was a good call, he felt better afterwards, less like he was about to fall apart. Too embarrassed, he never called back.

 

He wanted to, though. More than once he looked at the number in his phone, so tempted just to press the call button.

 

Harry -- this one or one of all the other that lives in London. Liam doesn’t even know what he hopes -- was the first one after his family, he told that he’s gay. He’s been with a few blokes back home, closeted boys that never talked to him when he didn’t have his mouth or hand on their cocks.

 

They never talked about anything.

 

Liam still doubtful, the recommended drink making his tummy turn a bit squeamish. He swallows hard, glancing towards the shelf with all the cakes. It’s harder to decide when there are so many different sorts, colours and tastes making him frown as he thinks.

 

“I think I’ll just go with the banana cupcakes,” he decides, the frosting high and swirly.

 

For a second or two, he’s worried that Harry might recognise his voice, even though it’s not wobbly and thick, close to tears. Nothing happens, though. Harry only smiles wide. Bright and easy like Liam is just an ordinary customer.

 

To him, Liam probably _is_. He’s used to feeling ordinary, but he misses how warm and safe the strange boy that let him talk for more than an hour, without even knowing him, made him feel.

 

“Good choice,” Harry says, nodding. “You sure you don’t want the kale drink, too.” He pouts a little, causing a flutter in Liam’s chest.

 

Liam kind of wants to say _yes_ , just to make Harry pleased. But if he doesn’t buy it, he’s got a reason -- and more money to do so -- to go to the bakery again. He wants that.

 

“Next time,” Liam says, taking the box with the pastry Harry’s offering. He can’t help noticing how big and nice Harry’s hands look. It all makes him feel a bit too hot in his clothes. “ _Maybe_.”

 

“Great.” Harry grins, at first not taking the credit card Liam’s holding out, wanting to pay. Then he laughs and shakes his head.

 

His cheeks look a bit pink when he takes it, like he’s blushing. Liam thinks that must be wrong; Harry looks like a person that shouldn’t feel as awkward Liam does when talking to someone cute. Not that he thinks Harry finds him cute.

 

When Liam leaves, he’s almost sure this is _his_ Harry, if he can call him that after one phone call. He’s more tempted than before to call the number in his phone, but he knows he won’t.

 

He can come back to the bakery, though. That’s not weird; they’re probably happy to have a customer, no matter the reason.

 

\-- -- --

 

He’s never quite sure what to say to Harry, always looking more at the cakes than at Harry. It’s easy to stare for too long, too openly wanting at Harry, if he doesn’t train his eyes on something else.

 

Harry never says anything about him knowing who Liam is, but he also doesn’t know his name. So the connection might not be as easy to make for him. Liam’s not sure if he should say something about it, not sure if it’d make any difference.

 

Maybe it’d only make Harry look at him strangely, pity him for needing that call so much.

 

“The buns were lovely,” Liam says, hinting about what Harry sold him the day before. Liam thinks Harry will remember which ones he means, since Harry was the one who convinced Liam they were to die for.

 

(Not that he wanted Liam to die, he then told Liam. With so much emotion in his voice that Liam couldn’t help to laugh.)

 

“A good baker will rise to the occasion, it's the yeast he can do,” Harry says, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

Liam snorts out a laugh, shaking his head. He’s delighted, happy that Harry wants to talk to him, make him smile.

 

“That’s horrible,” he mumbles, taking the sweet coffee drink Harry offers him. Something with caramel and vanilla, that tastes more candy than coffee. It’s Liam’s new favourite. He’s stopped trying to protest about them.

 

He _never_ orders them, and he never pays. Harry won’t let him.

 

“You should tell me your name,” Harry says, leaning his hands on the clean counter. He’s got a bit or flour in his hair, curls loose and soft around his face. “So I can write it on you mug, you know.”

 

Liam’s pretty sure Harry would have asked already, if that was a thing they did at the bakery. It makes him wonder if Harry really has been flirting with him, if the puns and jokes have been more than friendly banter.

 

“Liam,” he says, waving with his free hand. He’d have felt awkward, if Harry hadn’t waved back.

 

But then Harry stops, hand raised as if he’s forgotten about it even being up. “Liam?” he asks, and Liam can almost see in his eyes when he realises who Liam is.

 

“Yeah,” Liam says, shifting restlessly. For once, there isn’t a rush in the bakery, so he can’t just step aside and let someone else take all of Harry’s focus. “That’s me.”

 

“You’re the one,” Harry starts, but the _you called 3 AM and we talked about some pretty heavy shit,_ goes unsaid. Luckily. Liam’s cheeks feel hot as it is, just knowing that he’s been found out.

 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, wondering if he should push his drink into Harry’s hand. He feels like a fake, suddenly, and he doesn’t like it.

 

It feels like he’s fooled Harry into something.

 

“I thought about calling you,” Harry says, smiling softly. “I wanted to.”

 

Liam can’t understand why Harry would want to. What he got out of the talk they had, but he’s glad. He feels warm, happy. “Me too,” he says, feeling shy. He should be used to Harry, how fit and lovely he is. But he never stops being surprised by him, inside and out. “I didn’t see why you’d want to talk to me, though.”

 

Harry shrugs, looking unbothered by the question. “You were nice, wanted to make you feel better. And you had a nice voice.” He wiggles his eyebrows, grins sharper so his cheeks dimple. “It was a nice surprise that you’re so bloody fit, too.”

 

Liam opens his mouth, not sure if he’s about to tell Harry that he thinks the same about him. He doesn’t plan to say, “You’d like to go on a date with me?”

 

He’s not sure if it’s him or Harry that’s most shocked. It doesn’t matter, since Harry is quick to nod and say yes.

 

\-- -- --

 

He’s not lonely after that. With Harry comes a bunch of new friends, some that take longer for him to get used to than Niall, who is all relaxed smiles and happy chats.

 

Louis might be a bit too much like the loud people he didn’t get along with at school. Things get better between them, though. Alot better.

 

Even better than that, if he ever wants to talk to Harry in the middle of the night, he can just curl up against him in bed. Harry holds his hand, blinking sleepily at him when he rambles on about how his shift’s been.

 

When he’s woken up properly, he always kisses Liam silent. Liam’s more than happy about that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! [Tumblr post, if you want to like/reblog.](http://pandadepanda.tumblr.com/post/137885454479/fic-lost-boy)


End file.
